Black At Heart
by Annabella x
Summary: He is a member of one of the most powerful family in the Wizarding world. He upholds purity of the race and sympathizes with the Dark Lord. But, in the end, what he will be remembered for is his family. Orion Black muses on family and failure.


**BLACK AT HEART  
**

* * *

He was a Black. He was a Black, but _godamnit,_ he didn't feel like one. They'd left. His family had left and he was broken but he wouldn't give up. Not without a fight. He would bend and sway but he would never break, not ever, not while he had breath in his body. So he lived and he fought, in his own way, and all the while he wondered. _Did he fail them?_ Every day he contemplated, but be came no closer to the truth than he ever was before. He was destined not to know, and sometimes he could even get away from the haze of pain to realise that if he ever answered that question he would go mad from the knowledge.

_Did he fail them?_

His wife, his beautiful, headstrong wife, was now ravaged with such torment and anguish that her mind had retreated to a place far beyond his reach. She had left him, not physically, but the woman he had once loved had gone all the same, and as he lamented his loss he knew he could have saved her. Everyday, he would remember their wedding day, looking into those dark eyes as he promised to care for her forever. She had been so passionate then; full of plans for the future- _their_ future. They had been so lucky. She had borne him two sons easily, while he watched his brother-in-law receive three daughters. Somewhere, he knew, the heavens were shining on him. Later, he understood. Those two sons were not angels sent from above: they came from the fiery pits of hell, disguised as gifts of love and joy. For all the years of proud fatherhood they gave him, they eventually left him with bitter regrets and unspoken questions.

All the same, they were his sons, and he wondered.

_Did he fail them?_

Sirius, his eldest, and his heir, had once meant everything to him. He could still remember feeling so proud of the cheeky, lovable scamp. But the childish cheek soon manifested into other things. Rebellion. Defiance. Resistance. Sirius grew up fast – too fast and yet who was to blame – and would fight, fight with passion, against the ideals of the family. Come his sixteenth year, Sirius left, not looking back, oblivious to his mother's screams and his brother's tears that couldn't be suppressed. He lost Walburga and Regulus, a little, that day. He lost Sirius forever. But Sirius lost so much more. The star of Gryffindor lost his family. From then on, his eldest was dead to him. He was left with only memories of the little boy who had asked him so solemnly why the sky was crying. What do you call a parent who had lost their child, not by disease or murder, but by their own stupidity? He did not know, and that thought he carried around with him, another question that could never be answered.

_Did he fail them?_

He can see Regulus's face in the mirror, if he looks hard enough. His youngest is not smiling, he never smiled towards the end, and Regulus' eyes are dull. The face is the one he remembers his son wearing when Regulus announced he was joining the Death Eater's. He should have been proud, he knew. But, heaven help him, all he could think was _not another one, please, don't take another of my sons away. _He knew he would eventually lose his remaining son, killed on a mission, killed by his brother (please god no), sent to Azkaban. He supposed it was his fault, for all his life Regulus had been told how Muggles were not human but simply filthy beasts fit to be slaughtered. And he should have been thrilled his son is carrying out the glorious task, but he was getting old, and weak and losing faith in so much of what the Dark Lord said. Dumbledore would say he had reclaimed a scrap of humanity in his shriveled black heart. Then Regulus was dead and lost, a casualty of war, sacrificed for the cause, and he could only watch because the day Regulus joined the Death Eater's he had lost his son, and no words or actions would have saved his little snake with a lion's heart.

_Did he fail them?_

He received the news of his youngest son's death and a week later, he died. He left his deranged wife alone at Grimmauld Place, a son who was no longer his son and years of shame and fear of failure.

He hoped there wasn't something more, something after. No judging God, no heaven to be turned away from, and no hell to wonder in any more. _Did he fail them?_ In the end, though, he did not. The only person who Orion Black failed was himself. His family dug their graves all on their own.

Or so he told himself.

_Did he? Did he fail his family? Did he fail them?_

* * *

AN: I'll leave you to make up your own mind. If you were wondering, this piece is centred on Orion Black, father of Sirius Black, who died in 1979, the same year as his son Regulus. I know some people don't know what to say in reviews, so if you did enjoy it, a simple 'This was good' will be very greatly appreciated. I had a couple of problems with the tense in this piece, but I have corrected to the best of my ability. Please do point any mistakes out. Thank you for reading, and I hope very much you enjoyed this piece. _  
_


End file.
